


No Comb Required

by Darkrealmist



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, 遊☆戯☆王SEVENS | Yu-Gi-Oh!: Sevens (Anime)
Genre: Accidents, Anime, Bad Ideas, Bands, Boys Being Boys, Comedy, Concerts, Dorks, Fans, Friendship, Gen, Geniuses, Hair, Harm to Children, Humor, Laboratories, Mischief, Musicians, School, Science, Shounen, Singing, Technology, Wordcount: 100-1.000, Wordcount: 100-500, Wordcount: Under 10.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkrealmist/pseuds/Darkrealmist
Summary: Rook is eager to embarrass Romin at her concert. Yuga’s hairstyling machine stifles Rook’s scheme.
Relationships: Kamijo "Rook" Tatsuhisa & Ohdo Yuga, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	No Comb Required

No Comb Required

Author’s Note: Enjoy the story and R&R.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or of the Yu-Gi-Oh! SEVENS series.

Summary:

Rook is eager to embarrass Romin at her concert. Yuga’s hairstyling machine stifles Rook’s scheme.

* * *

Soldering.

Soldering.

Dang it, when would Yuga quit it with the soldering!

“Can you wrap this up? We’ll miss the opening band!”

“Give me six,” the boy genius projected.

This was Rook’s third complaint.

“Romin’s concert is at 7:00!”

“You’re only going there so you can stir up her fans and force her to sing.”

“She said singing’s NG for her! I want t’ know how bad!”

“That’s not very nice, Rook.”

“Please, you’re as curious as I am!” Rook lowered a mic on a fishing line: Yuga’s (fixed) homemade lie detector.

“Am I?” he answered snidely. The mic promptly detonated, incapable of processing questions.

Without leaving his work, Yuga kicked the swivel chair Rook was sitting on. Whirling around, the chair (itself a Road of Yuga’s making) fired a hair-raising seven feet across the track in the floor.

The suddenness rippled Rook’s gums. A less heavy passenger (i.e. Yuga) would have been flung out of his shoes over the backrest; in all likelihood, onto the mailing tubes storing the science geek’s blueprints.

A capsule automatically descended over Rook’s head, filling with shampoo and water. After the machine supplied Rook a spinning blow-dry, Yuga aimed a punch, his knuckles travelling straight through the taller’s bouncy afro.

“Oh.”

“Oh? OH? Get it out!”

“I wanted to see how much volume version 2.0 of my Road added!”

“I don’t care about the why, Yuga! Take your hand outta my hair!”

He pulled, but his wrist remained stuck where glove met blue.

“Yee-ow! Easy! Easy!”

Yuga put his thinking cap on. “How do you feel about carrying me to the concert?”

On a stool with Rook standing, his feet couldn’t reach the ground.

Rook had a more extreme idea.

“How do you feel about amputating? Cuz if one of the Roads in here can’t unstick us, I’m getting the hacksaw!”


End file.
